


Left in the Wake

by Fuzztacular



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Bay Movies), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of an agravated assault, Existential Angst, Gen, Gender Neutral, Song fic, Unsupportive family, attempted hurt/comfort, vague descriptions of violence and injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 01:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20770355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzztacular/pseuds/Fuzztacular
Summary: The reader is attacked at home and the turtles, Casey, and April are left to pick up the pieces.





	Left in the Wake

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of Smooth Criminal by Michael Jackson  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_D3VFfhvs4

** _ Warning: This work of fiction covers the aftermath of an aggravated assault.  _ **

Pain. Everything hurt. You couldn’t recall a time you had woken to this variety and sheer amount of pain. Not the morning after a long night of heavy drinking, not as a result of your traffic accident a few years back, not even after having returned to the gym after a long sabbatical. If all of those events were combined, could they be equal to this new agony? You doubted it. The soft beeping from somewhere nearby further inflamed your headache while drawing your attention outward to your surroundings. Wait, beeping? The sound was familiar, but not one you heard on a daily basis. Groggily forcing your eyes open, you were met with a dimly lit, sterile, white room. You torturously turned your head just enough to blurrily make out the equipment and instrumentation whose cords and wires snaked under and across the wrinkled white sheets and blanket of the railed bed you were situated in. ‘A hospital room,’ your brain sluggishly provided. If performing that slight rotating motion was so unbearable you didn’t want to further test your undoubtedly limited mobility to more thoroughly investigate the room. Your sigh quickly turned into a pained groan as you struggled to think back on how you came to be here. 

**As he came into the window it was the sound of a crescendo.**  
**He came into her apartment; he left the bloodstains on the carpet.**  
** She ran underneath the table, he could see she was unable.**  
** So she ran into the bedroom, she was struck down, it was her doom.**

You easily remembered coming home from work, you were excited for your few days off, but from there everything got hazy. With much effort, flashes of vague scenes and panicked movement entered your mind, like unrelated photographs and videos filmed by mistake. A threatening shadowy figure advancing toward you; a view from under your kitchen table, the chairs haphazardly strewn about, one of your legs stretched behind you with that same menacing figure clutching your ankle; an odd, sideways, angled close up on a puddle of blood soaking into the carpeting. You slowly realized the overarching theme was terror; you were attacked.

It was as if a light switch was suddenly flipped; you remembered. You remembered the sound of the window opening and how you thought it was weird for it to do so that early in the evening. It wasn’t nearly dark enough for your regular visitors to show up; it was too risky for the turtles to be out then. It wasn’t just a shadow that had entered your sanctuary, but a person covered from head to toe in black clothing. A strong person, you remembered struggling and it didn’t take long for you to figure out that escape was your best option. The path to the door was blocked though. Before you could decide on a course of action the intruder was closing in. You hoped making a circuit around the kitchen table would lead him out of your exit route; toppling the matching chairs behind you as you went, you tried to trip the invader up. When that didn’t work, you decided to dart under the table to get away from the guy and give yourself time to make it to the fire escape through your bedroom window. Nothing worked in your favor that night. You remembered the horror of being caught, the merciless, excruciating beating you were given, and then the exhaustion and weightlessness of relief when you were left within an inch of your life. That last part was probably from the blood loss you realized.

**Annie, are you okay? So Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?**  
**Annie, are you okay? So Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?**  
** Annie, are you okay? So Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?**  
** Annie, are you okay? So Annie, are you okay, are you okay Annie?**

You had been so lost in your dark recollections you failed to notice the increased tempo of the monotonous beeping at your side or the two women who had slipped into your room. It wasn’t until your friend April O’Neil cried your name, rushing to your side that brought you out of your memories. She immediately started spouting questions about how you were feeling and if you needed anything mixed with concessions about how your friends and family were worried, not once leaving you space to respond. Thankfully, the other woman, a doctor, if her lab coat and stethoscope were anything to go by, stopped April before she overwhelmed you. 

With a pleasant, professional tone, she introduced herself as Dr. Eastman, and much more calmly than April had, she asked how you were feeling and what you remembered from before your hospitalization. Your voice was rough and pain was written all over your features, but you managed to sum up your pitiful state and acknowledged that you had been assaulted by a stranger in your home. Having passed her test of your mental capability, you were informed that you had arrived by ambulance after one of your neighbors had phoned the police concerning the sounds of an altercation coming from your apartment. You were diagnosed and treated for severe trauma in the form of internal bleeding, head injury, many fractured and broken bones, along with numerable lacerations and contusions. She declared that the surgery she performed had taken just over four hours and had been successful with no complications; however you were left sedated for most of the night to allow you to begin healing without stress and pain. The surgeon proceeded to welcome any questions you had while she examined you. After everything was found to her liking, she promised to send in the attending nurse, Laird, to administer a pain reliever. Before she took her leave, she notified you that an officer would be by to question you about the previous day’s events. 

“She seems nice,” April commented since the two of you were alone. 

You grumbled not feeling up to having a conversation, but needing a distraction from your misery, “What time is it? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“It’s nice to see you too,” she scolded wearing a playfully hurt expression. Your raised eyebrow told her you weren’t in the mood for sarcasm or jokes. “Okay, fine, it’s almost 11AM. I called my boss this morning and gave her a heads up that I wanted to be here when you woke up. She’ll be happy to know you didn’t keep me waiting too long so I can get back,” she chirped with a wink. The perky reporter continued to fill you in on everything you missed while you were out. Apparently, the new detective, Casey Jones, went to Chief Vincent after hearing the dispatch call about you on his scanner and she readily agreed to allow him and the heroic turtle vigilantes to take over your case. It wasn’t long before he notified April and the guys of the trouble you were in. She took the responsibility of being your emergency contact, keeping in touch with your doctors, calling to let your boss know you might not be in for a while, and notifying your family from out of state.  
  
**Annie, are you ok? Will you tell us that you're okay?**  
** There's a sign in the window that he struck you, a crescendo, Annie.**  
** He came into your apartment; he left the bloodstains on the carpet.**  
** Then you ran into the bedroom, you were struck down, it was your doom.**

Luckily for you, it wasn’t long before Nurse Laird bustled in. He wasted no time injecting your medication into an IV tube and procuring the water you asked for. April had chatted with him previously and learned just how overworked the staff was and promised that she’d help sit you up to drink, he voiced his appreciation and was on his way again, almost running full tilt into the food cart being rolled through the doorway. April made good on her word and assisted in elevating you while the surly lunch cart lady delivered your allotted meal. Starting to feel the effects of the drugs, you were able to feed yourself while April alternated between questioning how you were and if you needed anything, fussing over you, and gabbing about whatever random topic popped into her head.

You were just finishing when a knock at the door announced that Casey had arrived. April called him in and he sauntered over asking how you felt, you could tell he had considered coming in for a hug, but decided against it just as April had; seeing as how you were covered in bruises, bandages, and plaster not to mention the tubes and wires everywhere; you couldn’t blame them. 

Then he got down to business, “Well, what do you think, are you up to answering a few questions for me?”

You let out another sigh, a lot less painfully this time, “Yeah, let’s get this over with before the drugs knock me out.”

You both knew this could be difficult for you, so he gave you a reassuring crooked smile, “Hey, you got this, and if at any time you need to take a break just say somethin’.” He waited for your confirmation before continuing, “Okay, first I’m going to need to take your statement. Tell me everything,” he stressed the word everything, “you remember about last night.” 

You recounted your experience in as much detail as possible starting with getting off work, verifying nothing out of the ordinary had happened until the break in. You admitted to not seeing anything useful for identifying your assailant, describing how the person’s disguise hid every feature to the point where you couldn’t even guess as to the gender. You depicted all of the features you could, such as the height, possible weight, and fitness level. You recounted the person’s strength and with that deduced the probability of your attacker being male and were going to refer to him as such, but you weren’t down playing the potential for him to actually be a female. His clothing wasn’t anything a normal civilian would wear, you illustrated the black almost ninja like style along with the material that covered his entire face which must have been see through since he had no problems maneuvering through you apartment. You moved onto the rest of the encounter, pausing when you got to the beating. Not only were you uncomfortable talking about it, but it was all pretty hazy from there on out. After a few short rests, you narrated the best you could up until you lost consciousness from pain and blood loss.

You waited a bit for him to finish writing before he responded with a question, “Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt you?”

Thinking about it for a bit, you answered, “I lead a fairly boring life except for knowing the turtles, so I would guess some enemy of theirs caught me with them and followed me home sometime.” You shrugged and instantly regretted it.

Double checking whether there was anything you wanted to add, he handed you the statement he wrote to have you read and sign it, explaining that if you remembered anything else to let him know. Since the important part was out of the way, he and April figured they should leave so you could get some rest. She guaranteed that she would be back later with everything you’d need for an overnight stay since it didn’t look like you’d be released for a couple days. You thanked them both as they left. Even though you’d been out of it for well over 12 hours you were still tired and fell asleep shortly after.   
  
**Annie, are you okay? So Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?**  
** Annie, are you okay? So Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?**  
** Annie, are you okay? So Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?**  
** You've been hit by; you've been hit by a smooth criminal.**

Casey hadn’t been by his radio when the call about an altercation in your apartment building first came in; but he had been there to hear the officers at the scene call backup and medical personnel to your address. After it was confirmed that help was on the way, he radioed to said officers for information on the incident. Dread filled him when they described the way they found you pale from extreme hemorrhaging and injury, unconscious, and barely breathing, your home in disarray. He went directly to the Chief for permission to take the case and inform her of your knowledge and relationship to the ninja turtle clan. After hearing his rushed, heartfelt, yet still professional recounting of everything he knew about you and the likelihood of the turtle’s enemies being involved, she was quick to give her blessings to Detective Jones and his secretive reptilian companions, ensuring that anything he needed for the investigation would be at his disposal. With that out of the way, he knew he had to inform those closest to you.

April was at her desk, preparing to leave work for the day while ignoring Vernon’s over-the-top methods for trying to gain her attention, when her mobile phone began buzzing in her jacket pocket. She pulled it out with a light grin when Casey’s contact info came up. They had been flirting nonstop and she was hoping he had finally worked up the courage to finally make a move. She accepted the call with a pleased, “Hey, Casey,” making Vernon give up with a frustrated sigh and a roll of his eyes before he stalked away muttering in indignation to himself. He was gone before he could notice her face paling in distress. She managed to rasp out her question through her breathlessness, “Which hospital?” Listening intently for a while she nodded, briefly forgetting the silent message would go unnoticed by the man over the phone, before practically sobbing, “I can do that, I’ll be there soon.” With that, she hung up and hurried to gather her belongings before dashing for the door.

Pizza negotiations were always serious business. It was of the utmost importance that each turtle got the amount of pies and toppings they desired with the money they had available. The decision was in the final phase of agreement when Donatello’s homemade communications device started sounding. Michelangelo bounded over to pick it up before any of his brothers could stop him. He answered with his ‘smooth seductive voice’ assuming April was on the line, “Heeeey sugar lips, whatcha wearin’?” The others watched on as his expression fell away, “Oh, what do you want Jones?” Mikey let out an annoyed huff before turning towards his brothers, “Fine but hurry up, we have pizza to order.” He held the gadget out, “Here Leo, Casey wants you.” He snickered at his immature innuendo as Leonardo took over.

“What’s going on?” The leader was quick to get down to business. The remaining brothers kept their eye on the one in blue as his already austere countenance became downright severe, an angry determination. “What, just now?” The air became thick with apprehensive anticipation. It was clear from their brother’s demeanor that they would be leaving as soon as darkness fully encompassed the world above their home. “Dusk is around 6, we’ll meet you there,” he growled and switched off the tech, returning it to its rightful place. 

The normally levelheaded turtle was anything but at the moment. He wanted to roar his fury to the heavens; he wanted to destroy everything in his path to get to the monster that brutalized you and tear them limb from limb; he wanted to fly up to street level, secrecy be damned, to find you and ensure you would make it through the night. He knew he couldn’t do any of that. His brothers would be just as upset and they would need him to not only act as a tether to keep them grounded but also guidance upon finally breaching the surface. Instead of acting on his insatiable rage, he pushed everything down and took a brief meditative breath before shakily releasing it to face his family. “Bad news, guys.”

**So they came into the outway, ****it was Sunday, what a black day.**  
**Every time I try to find him, he's leaving no clues left behind him.**  
** And they have no way of knowing of the suspect or what to expect.**  
** Mouth to mouth resuscitation, sounding heartbeats, intimidations**

Passing on Casey’s message went just as horribly as was expected. A fight broke out between Leo and Raphael after the latter had to be restrained from immediately charging to your side by the others. The chaos and yelling had Splinter emerging from his repose to reinstate order if not calm. The old rat knew the boys would not settle with their friend’s life on the line as it were, so he supervised them throughout their Hashi regimen to help them come to terms with their overbearing emotions and pass away the day until night fully arrived. Once it was time to finally release his sons, the master made them each promise to look after one another in order to help keep extreme emotions and any resulting actions in check. The pacts made, the ninja moved with cold fury to meet Casey at your apartment.

The human was waiting for them out on your fire escape with a warning that your normally nice apartment was fairly horrific, that they should watch their step, and be careful not to contaminate the crime scene. With their solemn agreement at his words of caution, they all entered. 

Leo and Raph followed closely behind; fully aware of the kind of gory sites a police detective could come across in the line of duty, they were prepared for the carnage that awaited them inside. Despite the expectations, their anger rose to the surface again at seeing what you had endured. Donatello was shocked at the amount of blood left behind and his initial worry about your wellbeing only grew stronger and more excruciating. He couldn’t help but run through a list of medical treatments you would need based on the turmoil left in your home as well as side effects, possible complications, and recovery times for various traumas. As soon as poor Michelangelo entered the premises, the scent and sight of your blood registered to his senses. Muttering a quick, “I think I’m gonna be sick,” he was back out the window, recollecting his composure and fighting off the sudden nausea. This was the first time one of his more delicate and gentle human friends had been seriously injured. He didn’t know how to handle the fact that you weren’t as sturdy and quick to heal as he and his mutated brothers. Knowing this was the fastest way to get to your attacker, the males inside honed their feelings into a sharp focus and set about the surroundings in search for clues, Mikey joined them shortly.

According to Detective Jones, the crime scene investigators had already been through your apartment. They catalogued the signs of the altercation, took samples from the various spots and pools of blood, and had searched for evidence that could help identify you assailant. Their examination had proved fruitless. Casey had hoped the turtle brothers could be more successful since they were likely to be more familiar with the aggressor. That however was not the case. Though the turtles’ inspection caught them up to speed on the severity of what had happened and the sequence of events, nothing new was discovered. Not a fingerprint, hair, or track was found and frustration tore through your friends as they departed in the predawn hours to look around the alleys and rooftops in the surrounding area as a last ditch effort at locating any sort of hint. 

**Annie, are you okay? So Annie, are you okay? Are you okay Annie?**  
**Annie, are you okay? (Annie, are you okay?) So Annie, are you okay? (Annie, are you okay?) Are you okay Annie?**  
** Annie, are you okay? (Annie, are you okay?) So Annie, are you okay? (Annie, are you okay?)**

You awoke after a few hours in the early afternoon, less disoriented in your environment but equally as groggy, to find Nurse Laird was back checking your vitals. After assisting you in elevating the head of your bed, bringing another cup of water, and pulling the room’s phone into arms reach for you, he was on his way out to monitor his other patients. Despite the pain and hindrance in your every motion, you knew you had an obligation to the outside world, specifically your family. With a deep breath, you collected your courage, mentally donned your battle armor, and dialed your parents’ phone number.

A few rings in, your mother answered in her sweet, faux-pleasant tone. You winced and replied with a composed, ‘Hi mom.”

Her voice dropped in to a derisive, “Oh, it’s you,” before her tirade began. “You finally decided to call did you? It took you long enough. I suppose you want attention, sympathy, maybe a shoulder to cry on? Forget it! I told you it was a bad idea to move away! You can’t even fend for yourself in a safe little town let alone the crime and rat infested big city! But did you listen? No! Then last night’s dinner gets interrupted by that annoying girlfriend of yours calling to say you were in the hospital! She didn’t even ask if it was a good time to talk or offer to call back when I said we were in the middle of our meal. I don’t know where you found those so-called ‘friends’ of yours. If I were to put money on it, I’d say it was those mysterious guys you hang around with and refuse to tell me any details about that attacked you. You think you’re so smart, serves you right for not paying attention to your mother. Now you’re calling here probably wanting to beg money from your father to pay for your mistakes, but the jokes on you! You’re not getting a penny! You’re problems are your own from now on, maybe that’ll teach you a lesson for abandoning your family!” With that, she hung up.

You sighed, gently returning the phone to the receiver, mumbling sarcastically, “I’ll be okay by the way, thanks for asking.” Sipping on your water, you decided to sulk in silence for a while as your drug fueled emotions went haywire from that pathetic excuse of a conversation.  
  
** Annie, are you okay? (Annie, are you okay?) So Annie, are you okay? (Annie, are you okay?) Are you okay Annie?**  
** Annie, are you okay? So, Annie, are you okay? Are you okay Annie?**  
** You've been hit; you've been hit by a smooth criminal.**

You had calmed down significantly and had even started to doze off when the clicking of April’s heels caught your attention. She placed a few bags down on the chair in your room before seating herself towards the end of your bed and presenting you with a sweet, considerate smile. “Hey you, how are you feeling?” Her questioning voice was soft and soothing.

“Pretty high actually now that I think about it.” She giggled at your observation and you continued, “Your boss let you leave early today?”

She smirked ruefully at that, “Unfortunately no, there’s tons of news happening still. I’m on my lunch break and figured I’d bring some of your belongings to you. Casey picked up some spare underclothes and your laptop while he was at your place last night. The guys are anxious to see you and chat for a bit.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll try video calling them a little later.” You were trying not to choke up in front of her as you replied. After the scolding you got from your mom, the care and consideration you received from your friends was extra touching, that and the meds still had you overly emotional apparently.

April looked slightly concerned for a moment, “Just so you find out before turning on your webcam, the brute that did this to you left your face a mess. I’m sure you feel it, or, at least before you pains meds you probably could.” She paused still looking worried, “I didn’t want you to be scared when you saw yourself. I asked Dr. Eastman about it earlier and she said you’re likely to make a full recovery with minimal scarring as long as you don’t mess with your cuts and stitches and let them heal properly. She also said that if you had any loose teeth, they would fix themselves if you left them alone.” She hesitated again to gauge your reaction before concluding her warning, “So the good news is that all of this damage is only temporary and you’ll be back to your good looking self in no time!”

You hadn’t really thought how you must look previously. Now your spirits were dampened a smidge and you suddenly weren’t looking forward to your sewer friends seeing you. “Oh, thanks for the warning I guess.” Your guest saw your crestfallen slump and cooed at you as she came in for a cautious yet supportive hug.

“I hate to leave you like this, but I really do need to get back to work. I promise I’ll stop by again when I get out though!” You nodded to her heartfelt statement and forced a wavering, not quite believable grin onto your face. “Don’t let the guys keep you up too long, make sure you get some rest.” She fretted over you a couple minutes longer, refilling your water and ensuring you were as comfortable as possible before she accepted your blessing to leave for work.   
  
**Annie, are you okay? Will you tell us that you're okay?**  
** There's a sign in the window that he struck you, a crescendo Annie.**  
** He came into your apartment, left the bloodstains on the carpet.**  
** Then you ran into the bedroom, you were struck down, it was your doom, Annie.**

**(So Annie, are you okay?) Are you okay, Annie?**

“Finally,” Donatello breathed out in relief as he answered the pinging coming from his computer. “How’re you feeling?” He asked as your bedraggled visage popped onto his screen.

Your answer came as a groan followed by a morose, “Like I was hit by a truck.”

That earned you a slow nod as he fully scrutinized your appearance, “I’ll bet. So, what’s the prognosis?”

The slight mischievous glint in his eye told you he had been up to no good. “Somehow I get the feeling that you already know.” That light in his eyes only grew stronger, “Doc says I’ll be right as rain in no time.”

“With lots of rest and care to your injuries,” the purple clad turtle tacked on to your statement.

You let out a bone weary sigh which set your ribs aching more, “You hacked into my medical chart.”

“I hacked into your medical chart.” He was unapologetic and you couldn’t find it in yourself to blame him. You knew the brothers and their sensei would be worried for you; and unlike your human friends, they didn’t have the luxury of stopping by to assuage their distress. “So, after consulting my files, what’s your professional opinion? Will I make it?” You teased him needing to lighten the mood after everything you’d dealt with in the past 24 hours.

“I think you’ll be fine as long as madness from the boredom doesn’t set in.” He reassured with a slight smirk before teasing right back, “Bed rest and a lightened work schedule, how will you ever cope?”

You groaned in fake annoyance, “I’m doomed to catch cabin fever. Seriously though Don, this sucks.” The corner of his mouth pulled back and his brows furrowed in sympathy but he remained quiet. He could tell you needed to vent. “I got my ass kicked from here to next Sunday. I can’t even think about moving anything without breaking out in a cold sweat from the pain and they gave me a catheter! Have you ever had a catheter?” The brainy turtle had the good grace to wince and shake his head at that even though he knew the question was rhetorical. “Catheters are the literal worst! Then on top of all that I decided to be considerate and call my parents to let them know what’s going on, but all I got from my mom was a lecture on how I’m a horrible offspring and all my choices are wrong!” With that all off your chest, you gently leaned your head back to rest on the inclined bed acting as a fancy chair. “Is the ride over yet? I’d love to get off now,” you mumbled feeling a new wave of exhaustion wash over you.

Donatello felt terrible for your plight but knew there was little he could do to help you as of yet. “Hey, hang in there, you said it yourself, you’ll be back home and right as rain in no time, remember? Besides the guys and I always have time to talk or hangout over video chat during the day if things get too mind numbing for you.”

You couldn’t help the slight appreciative smile that made its way to your face. The awkward nerd always was able to act as your emotional therapy turtle when you needed him, “Thanks Donnie, you have no idea how much that means to me right now.”

**Annie, are you okay? Will you tell us that you're okay?**  
**There's a sign in the window that he struck you, a crescendo Annie.**  
** He came into your apartment, left the bloodstains on the carpet.**  
** Then you ran into the bedroom, you were struck down, it was your doom Annie.**

Raphael had been lifting weights within earshot of your conversation with his brainiac of a brother and had readily accepted the invitation to talk with you for a bit. Having settled into the seat, he got a good look at your beaten form and his eyes widened in shock before he was able to school his features and avert his gaze. He had lost everything he’d planned on saying. He heard your quiet, “Hi Raph,” to which he responded with a noncommittal grunt. When you noticed his odd behavior you spoke up again, “You okay?” 

He derisively snorted in exasperation before shooting a glare at you and quickly vacated the area with a sharply muttered, “I can’t do this.” Wide eyed with shock at his seemingly unprovoked aggression, you heard a muted shout as he continued to move away from the microphone, “Mikey!”

There were some terse but unintelligible words exchanged before a curious Michelangelo peaked onto the screen, breaking into a warm sunny smile as he saw it was you. “Heyya sexy!” the flirty turtle exclaimed as he flopped down in the provided chair. When he noticed your dejected slump and the soft sniffle he was alert in a flash. “Heyheyhey, what’s wrong!?” For being the funny guy of the group he was always so aware of everyone’s mental state.

You scoffed to try to cover your hurt feelings, “I know I look like shit, but Raph didn’t have to be an ass about it.”

He was confused by that, “What’d I miss? Did he say something?” He just saw his temperamental bro and though he seemed upset he wasn’t angry like he’d just been in an argument.

You sniffed again, “He didn’t have to. His storming off and refusing to look at me was enough.” You were already emotionally compromised and Raph’s attitude hadn’t helped matters.

It finally dawned on him what had happened. “Believe me you are still the hottest of tamales! Don’t worry about him, he didn’t mean anything by it. The only thing that’s bothering him about how you look is that someone did that to you. He feels bad that you got hurt and he couldn’t do anything about it.”

Serious helpful Mikey always managed to throw you off for a few seconds. “Oh,” was all you managed as a reply. It made sense; the combative turtle was loyal to a fault once you managed to get through his metaphorical shell. Of course he would feel guilty that he hadn’t been there to protect you, whether or not said help was actually feasible at the time.

“Shocking, the big guy has complex feelings, I know right! He’s got layers, like an onion, or an ogre, not so much a parfait. But let’s keep that just between us,” he joked to attempt to lift your spirits. He adopted the voice of an old man before continuing, “Keep it secret; keep it safe.”

A light chuckle bubbled up from your throat at his terrible impression and you smirked as you barely shook your head at his antics.

**Annie, are you okay? (I don't know!) Will you tell us that you're okay? (I don't know!)**  
**There's a sign in the window, (I don't know!) that he struck you, a crescendo Annie. (I don't know!)**  
** He came into your apartment, (I don't know!) left the bloodstains on the carpet. (I don't know why babe!)**  
** Then you ran into the bedroom, (I don't know) you were struck down, it was your doom Annie. (Dag gone It, Annie!)**

Mikey was soon done goofing off for your benefit and sent in Leonardo. The fearless leader recognized your fatigue right away. “You look tired, I won’t keep you long. How are you holding up?”

“Tired as you said, you don’t get nearly as much sleep in a hospital as what you’d expect. Other than that,” you thought about shrugging but knew that was a bad idea and went with the verbal equivalent, “meh. It feels like it’s about time for more pain meds though, so yay I guess?” You tended to get a touch sarcastic when you were sleepy.

He was able to suppress laughing at your mini tirade but not so much his slight smirk, “Sounds like you’re living the dream.” Receiving your grumbled agreement and eye roll, he continued, “We’ll be headed out in a few hours to keep looking for the perpetrator.” He noted how your expression went from unimpressed at his kidding to stone cold serious. “Casey told us your account of the events from last night. Was there anything else you thought of and wanted to add?”

A thoughtful look crossed your face before you minutely straightened and made eye contact with the turtle turned detective. “Now that you mention it, yeah there is.” He perked up at your admission. “There was a smell, kind of like incense. Not the scent you guys use in the lair, something I didn’t recognize.” His eyes scrunched in frustration, “I take it that doesn’t help,” you deduced.

He hummed while thinking about it, “It’s not much, but every little bit helps. Whoever broke in to your place didn’t leave anything behind. We assumed it was one of our enemies attempting to use you to draw us out but we didn’t find any leads to point us in any particular direction. With this new information about the smell of incense, that sounds like the person could have been from the Foot Clan. You’ve given us a starting point at the very least.”

Tension that had subtly built up over the course of speaking to Leo released with your subsequent exhale. So they hadn’t found anything. The news was disheartening, but you wouldn’t hold it against your friends. You really didn’t know what to say so settled for neutral acceptance, “That’s something then. Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”

“That is something, don’t worry about it. You just focus on healing, we’ll do the rest.” The steadfast reptile had an air of confident authority that soothed your self-deprecation.

“Thanks Leo.”

**Annie, are you okay? (Dag gone it Annie!) Will you tell us that you're okay? (Dag gone it baby!)**  
**There's a sign in the window, (Dag gone it Annie!) that he struck you, a crescendo Annie.**  
** He came into your apartment, (Dag gone it!) left the bloodstains on the carpet.**  
** Then you ran into the bedroom, you were struck down, (Dag gone it!) it was your doom, Annie.**

You hadn’t closed out the video chat application but five minutes before a new nurse bustled in, introduced herself as Kala, and began rechecking your vitals. The high pitch of her voice was inflaming your headache as she chatted away to you, but she was friendly and had an oddly soothing presence. Double checking that you were ready for another dose of pain meds, she refilled your water and went to procure your drugs. By the time she returned, around fifteen minutes later, your dinner had been delivered. 

You knew you were too sore to move enough to help yourself to your meal and would be until after the medicine kicked in. Even though it was hospital food and notorious for being bland and tasteless at best, the smell was heightening your hunger and you found yourself salivating and impatient to eat. Luckily for you the intravenous method of drug delivery sped up the time for said drug to take effect. You still had to move more slowly than you wanted, but that was probably for the best, after the surgery and medication in your system, you weren’t sure how your body would handle scarfing down the food anyways. After you were sated, you relaxed back into the still raised bed. Your tray was soon collected, your door closed, and you were left in quiet solitude.  
  
**Annie, are you okay? (I don't know!) Will you tell us that you're okay? (I don't know!)**  
** There's a sign in the window, (I don't know!) that he struck you, a crescendo Annie. (I don't know!)**  
** He came into your apartment, (I don't know!) left the bloodstains on the carpet. (I don't know why babe!)**  
** Then you ran into the bedroom, (I don't know!) you were struck down, it was your doom Annie. (Dag gone it Annie!**)

As you sat in near silence with nothing but the soft beeping of your heartrate monitor to keep you company, you flattened your bed back out, waiting for the sweet relief of slumber. Instead a slight creeping dread started to overtake you. Before you could reach for the television remote to distract yourself from it, something Donatello had said came back to you. “You’ll be back home and right as rain in no time.” Home. Normally such a thought would be welcomed and comforting, but the images your memory provided were anything but. Was your apartment still ransacked? Were your belongings still lying where they’d been strewn about? Were the puddles of coagulated blood still soaking into and staining your flooring, leaving mementos of your horrifying ordeal as waking nightmares to be relived whenever you noticed them?

Your breathing hitched in your constricting throat before it and your pulse picked up. Suddenly you realized the thought of being by yourself in your apartment was looking less and less appealing by the second. Were you expected to clear away the mess on your own despite your new found emotional trauma and limited mobility? If so, how was that fair? Someone broke into your sanctuary, stealing any sense of safety and comfort you had previously harbored. They still wandered the streets freely while you suffered through hell in penance for their crime? Would you ever find said safety and comfort again in your dwelling? Would you be able to reenter your apartment without the memories of the brutality you had faced coming back to the forefront of your mind?

Then the most shocking revelation popped into your thoughts. Would the villain return to finish what they started? Would you awaken from slumber to find them hovering over you, poised to make the killing blow? If they were to get in, would you wake at all or be murdered in your sleep? If you had a choice in the matter, which way would be preferable? Goosebumps spread over your flesh and you found yourself quaking in fear. Choking out a sob, you slowly and carefully moved to huddle under the façade of refuge provided by the cold, thin blankets of your bedding. Your eyes shot open in panic as you finally grasped the entirety of you vulnerability. Who was to say you were completely safe in the bed and room you currently took shelter in? Could your attempted murderer not come to you at any time posing as a worried visitor only to bring about your demise under the preoccupied care of your attendants? You had complained to Donnie that you wanted all of this to be over, but it looked like your personal horror story was just beginning.  
  
**Annie, are you okay? (Dag gone it Annie!) Will you tell us that you're okay? (Dag gone it baby!)**  
** There's a sign in the window, (Dag gone it Annie!) that he struck you, a crescendo Annie.**  
** He came into your apartment, (Dag gone it!) left the bloodstains on the carpet.**  
** Then you ran into the bedroom, you were struck down, (Dag gone it!) it was your doom, Annie.**


End file.
